Competition
by summershadow
Summary: A furious Franziska confronts Edgeworth over having beaten her yet again, this time in coming out as gay to their co-workers. Edgeworth, meanwhile, is still trying to work out his own issues on the subject.


Edgeworth sank down on the couch in his office with a sigh. It had been a trying week, and he still wasn't sure how he felt about it all. But at least now he had some peace and quiet and privacy to sort out his thoughts.

He managed to maintain his optimism on this score for nearly a full minute before it was cruelly shattered by a shout of "Miles Edgeworth!" from the hallway.

Edgeworth pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Come in, Franziska," he said – rather unnecessarily, as it happened, since even as he said this she was flinging open the door.

"Miles Edgeworth!" she said again, gesturing at him with her whip hand for emphasis (or maybe by way of a warning shot). "There is something I wish to discuss with you."

"I thought you were out of town."

"I got back last night, but that isn't important right now." She loomed over him, glowering, as if daring him to disagree. "What is important is this. You got into law school before I did. You passed the bar exam before I did. You won your first case before I did. Very well; I can accept that." (That was news, Edgeworth thought.) "But this- this! This is absolutely the last straw! All I wanted was to do one thing without being beaten to it by some foolish fool's foolish tricks! And now you've gone and ruined it! Well, I will _not_ take this lying down!"

Edgeworth let her carry on in this vein for a while, making no move to defend himself. He had learned years ago that arguments like _I'm older than you_ or _It's not a competition_ or _Look, Franziska, I'm sorry, now will you please put down the whip?_ didn't get a person anywhere with her. All one could do was wait until she calmed down or, more likely, found another target for her rage.

When she seemed to be finished – or at least catching her breath – he said, "Er, Franziska, what exactly is this all about?" As far as he could recall, he had not reached any new milestones in the legal profession in quite some time.

Franziska arched her eyebrows and waved a finger at him. "Why," she said (in tones that indicated that she was surprised that it was not perfectly obvious), "coming out, of course."

Edgeworth stared. Then he made a strangled noise (which, some remote and detached corner of his brain thought, Kay would doubtless have found hilarious if she had been there). Then he took a deep breath and did his best to regain his composure. "I beg your pardon?"

Franziska lashed out with the whip again, barely missing him. "Do you not have ears on that fool head of yours? You know perfectly well what I mean!"

"Well, yes, but- that is- I didn't know you were-"

"That's just it!" she said. "Hardly anyone knows that I'm gay. And now you've gone and told everyone you are, and I'm left looking like some sort of copy-cat!"

Edgeworth somehow doubted this. "I'm hardly the first person in the world to have done so. Indeed, I am given to understand that there are a number of people in this very city who came out long before either you or I began to consider it."

"You weren't the first prosecutor in the world either," Franziska replied, crossing her arms. "But what does that matter? That was between you and me, and so is this."

"I'm sure no one took much notice of my revelation anyway. There must be any number of people who don't know yet."

"'No one took much notice?'" Franziska said, enunciating each word very distinctly. "I suppose that's why the gossip is all over the prosecutors' office, then."

Edgeworth swallowed. "People are talking about it?"

"Oh, yes. How did you think I found out? Well, I didn't quite believe them at first – there have been rumors about you for years, you know—"

"I'm well aware," Edgeworth said. It still irked him, on principle, even though they had been right. But now was not the time to go exploring his feelings on that point.

"Anyway, after listening to all that garbage for a while, I gathered that there was more to it this time than idle speculation. Really, you could have spared me the trouble if you'd had the courtesy to tell me."

"You were away. I didn't think it was important enough to bother you with."

"You didn't think it was important? You didn't think I would be interested in knowing that you had beaten me again?"

"Would you stop talking about it as though it's some kind of... of accomplishment?" Edgeworth snapped. "It's- that is- there's no qualifying exam for admitting an attraction to persons of the same gender as yourself. It isn't even remotely the same as all those other things."

"Are you suggesting that it's easy?" Her tone was even, but her hands clenched the whip even tighter than usual as she spoke.

"Well, I-"

"That is to say, it would be easy for me, of course," she went on, apparently taking no notice of the fact that he had spoken at all. "A von Karma never knows self-doubt. But I find it hard to believe that you would be able to work up the nerve without much effort."

"Well, it... that is, I... I mean, ah..." he stalled, more than half-hoping she'd interrupt him again.

"Stammering? I expect better from you than that. Get on with it!" Her voice seemed to be getting unnecessarily loud, even for Franziska. Edgeworth wondered how far down the hall she could be heard, and what the office gossips would have to say about that.

"I don't know what to tell you," he said.

"The truth, of course." She tapped the handle of her whip against her palm impatiently. "What else?"

"... Of course." He took a deep breath. Then he let it out and took another one. He brushed some lint off the arm of the couch. He felt a sudden strong desire to make tea, started to get up, then sat down again.

"Well?" said Franziska meaningfully.

"It wasn't, all right?" Edgeworth said, a bit more roughly than he'd intended. "It wasn't easy to tell them – or perhaps I should say it _isn't_ easy, because it isn't over, as there are still people I have yet to tell, to say nothing of the number of people I will doubtless meet in the future who will desire or require such information. Which, frankly, is a prospect that is rather daunting, considering that I find the entire topic extremely difficult to discuss. And you are not helping by barging in here and yelling at me about it! Does that answer your question?"

Franziska crossed her arms and looked away. "Yes, I suppose so," she said stiffly. "I should probably be going now."

"Yes, you probably should."

There was a long pause.

"Goodbye, then," she said, in that same stilted tone, and stalked very slowly towards the door, carefully not looking at him at all.

"Wait," he said as she reached the door.

She stopped, hand on the doorknob, but didn't turn around. "What?"

"I'm sure you'll have less difficulty with... all this... than I have."

"I don't doubt it," she said. He could hear the smug smile in her voice.

"However, ah..." He paused, intensely studying the carpet and trying to force the jumbled words in his head into some kind of order. "If by some chance you were to find it... less simple than you had anticipated, I, er... well, I wanted to say that that would be, er. Understandable."

She finally turned, and favored him with a narrow gaze and a small, derisive laugh. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Never mind." It had been a stupid idea anyway.

"Well, if you're quite finished foolishly babbling a fool's foolish blather, I should be going," she said.

"All right," said Edgeworth. "Goodbye."

She swept out the door, letting it slam behind her. Edgeworth leaned back into the couch, shutting his eyes. Then he heard the door creak open again.

Franziska stuck her head into the office. "One more thing, Miles Edgeworth."

Edgeworth blinked. "What is it?"

"I'm going to get married before you do."


End file.
